St Kilda Blues (Charlie Berlin #3)(27)

A man with a beard and a mop of black curly hair was sitting on one of the couches. He had obviously dressed himself quickly, mismatching the buttons and buttonholes on his shirt so it didn’t line up at the collar. He was wearing jeans but was barefoot. A pair of lime green underpants were draped over one arm of a couch along with a pink bra and a leather miniskirt. A tie-dyed cloth shoulder bag was on the floor near the couch. The room had the same over-powering stink of incense and patchouli and marijuana, though up here the stale toasted cheese smell was stronger. So was the smell of recent sex.

Berlin walked over to the open window. The window frame and glass were both painted over with brown, as were all the other windows in the place. Berlin leaned out. Roberts was down in the cobblestone-paved laneway. That downstairs stage area was somewhere underneath him, Berlin judged and he could see the top edge of an open door. Probably how the bands got their instruments into the building.

He gave a whistle. Roberts looked up. ‘Someone up there has been a very bad boy, Charlie.’

He held up his hands. Berlin could see a tobacco tin, rolling papers, matches and the fag-end of a joint held in a roach clip. He turned back into the room. The girl had put on her skirt and underpants. She was barefoot and struggling back into her bra under the tie-dyed shirt.

‘What’ s your name.?’

The girl finished wriggling inside the shirt. ‘It’s Dee, you know, like A, B, C, D.’

‘Yeah, D, like the bra cup size too,’ the man on the couch added.

Berlin glanced over at him. He was wearing the buckskin boots now. It was always good to know first up you were dealing with a smart-arse, it made things easier. Berlin put his age at about thirty. He kept looking towards the couch, holding the man’s gaze. There were several fresh-looking love bites on his neck, though Berlin was certain love had nothing to do with it.

‘So tell me, Dee, how old are you?’ He asked the question without taking his eyes off the other man’s face. The man’s eyes flicked away from Berlin and towards the girl standing behind him.

‘I’m eighteen.’

She sounded like a kid answering a question on a school test. Berlin turned back towards her and smiled. ‘That’s a nice age. Gemini, I reckon, June’ 49? Am I right?’

The girl shook her head. ‘No, it’s Scorpio, November second, 1953.’

‘Jesus, f*ck, Dee!’

Berlin and the girl both looked towards the couch. The man had his head in his hands.

‘Sorry, Jim,’ the girl said, ‘he confused me.’ She turned to Berlin. ‘That wasn’t fair, you tricked me.’

It sounded almost sweet, the way she said it, and Berlin felt a little sorry for her. ‘You’re right, Dee, but it’s my job. Now why don’t you pop downstairs and give your details to my friend Detective Roberts. He’s got a daughter about your age. I’m pretty sure she’s in school today, which is where you should be.’

The girl turned towards the couch. ‘What should I do, Jim?’

Jim looked up and shook his head. ‘Oh, just piss off, you stupid fat cow, who bloody needs you?’

Dee took a sudden step back. She looked like she was about to start crying. Berlin knew words could sometimes do as much damage as a fist, especially when you were young. The man on the couch had just given the girl a good, hard smack without touching her. Berlin really felt sorry for her now.

‘You run downstairs now, Dee, and tell my friend I said he should put you in a taxi after he gets your details. I’m going to have a little chat with Jim. I’m sorry he’s got such bad manners.’

The look of shock was gone from the girl’s face and now she was just angry. She grabbed her cloth shoulder bag from the floor and ran down the stairs without looking back.





TWELVE


Berlin took a chair from one of the tables and put it down in front of the couch. He sat down and leaned forward. His first words were spoken softly, casually. It was always the best way to begin.

‘My name’s Detective Sergeant Charlie Berlin, Jim, but you can call me Mr Berlin or Sir. Dee seems nice, you really shouldn’t have yelled at her. Nice looking too. By the time you get out of Pentridge she’ll probably be legal. Probably have a kid or two and maybe a husband as well by then, but life rolls on. You might not even like girls by then anyway, some blokes change when they’re inside for a spell. Now, before we get to the drug possession and carnal knowledge part of the proceedings I need to know everything that happened in this place on Saturday night, and I mean everything. And look at me when I talk to you.’

Jim kept his head down. ‘I told the other cops when they came, and the detective who came to my place yesterday arvo, that Selden bloke. It was just the usual stuff, just a normal Saturday night, you can ask him.’

‘But I’m asking you. So it was just sex and drugs and rock’n’roll?’

Jim looked up and into Berlin’s face. ‘That’s right, and a light show and we also had some folk music up here too. There was a banjo, as I recall.’ The last part was said with a hint of a sneer.

Berlin leaned in closer and spoke very softly. ‘You might want to watch your tone, sunshine. I don’t want to hit you but I will if it’s necessary.’

Berlin held the other man’s gaze until Jim was forced to look away.